Ocarina of Time: A Novel
by The Teeta Monster
Summary: Link is a monster. That is something he has always known, denied, and fought against. But when a power made to rip the soil from the world creeps over the horizon, the only thing powerful enough to stop it is what Link has been trying to suppress. Banished from the tribe that raised him, Link will discover the truth behind his monstrosity... and his destiny.
1. Foreword

**Foreword**

I have a personal loathing for such things as this, as I believe forewords are pages that delay the reader from beginning their journey of the story by detailing thoughts the author has that no one else cares about, benefits from, or even deigns to read. In fact, I wasn't planning on writing this entry at all until my tiny voice of reason in the back of my head convinced me that while it was certainly not appealing, it was all too necessary. So, if you have absolutely no qualms about what lies before you, I welcome you with open arms and a plate of imaginary chocolate cake to skip this annoying babble and go ahead to the first book. If not, please bear with me as I write this.

The first thing you will notice is what you will not notice: throughout the story words such as "hand" and "arm" are absent. This is because those two body parts are exceptionally reserved for humans, and although this is a fanfiction based on a story about humans (though technically Hylians, Zoras, and the like are nothing of the sort, having not evolved on Earth from Homo Australopithecus) the characters are not depicted as humans. They are cats. Or, specifically, cat-like humanoids.

It does not matter if you are a college student looking for something to procrastinate to, or my sister trying to discover what exactly I'm up to this late at night, I will not begrudge you for heading for the search bar. I cannot please everyone, nor do I want to. My goal is to please those who have chosen to give me and my writing a chance. It is what little I can give in return for your tolerance of me.

I will not tell you why they are written as cats, because I don't know myself. Maybe it is because when I started writing this nut-job of a book back in 2011, I did not know how to express my feelings through the likeness of people (as well as the fact that I never planned on finishing it in the first place). Perhaps it is because it is the way it started and has melded into the words over time, so that tearing it out would be like dropping the thing in a dishwasher and setting on extra-rinse. Perhaps, although I greatly doubt this one as there is very little evidence to support it, my brain is simply so scrambled by my developmental delays that I find myself better able to document my thoughts, feelings, and sensations as feline. The most likely theory I've been able to come up with is that I have an unhealthy obsession with the animals and should probably seek professional help for my zealot-like actions, but I digress.

Again, these are not simply cats in the place of people, they are people-cats…like furries, but without all the porn or club dedicated to wondering why they exist… well, that last one may not be true. The characters may have paws in place of hands and bodies covered in fibrous hair, but they walk on two legs and typically refer to themselves as "people" (for what do they have to compare themselves with?). Females and males are oftentimes called "man" and "woman" although they are also occasionally titled "toms", the common name for a male cat, and "mollies", the less known but still commercial name for a female cat. Likewise for children with "kittens", albeit only the infants are called kittens for the most part.

Despite what you may think of such an oddity, if that is what this will be called, I promise you to make it as entertaining and spirited as possible. This may mean I may deviate from the game's original plot, and sometimes, much so. Remember, this is an adaptation from game to book. Due to format, some things will have to be changed. However, I have made it a priority that the story is the story of Ocarina of Time. It will not become something else because I felt like it, like the Eragon movie (my soul still cries for what 21st Century Fox has done to Saphira. The horror!).

They may be cat-people, a fact I was not easy with admitting, but they embrace what they are, not shun it, as I have learned to do for myself… and, according to this foreword, am still working on doing. You may choose to laugh at this work. You may simply ignore it or talk about it in whispers, like "weird side of YouTube" nobody wants to acknowledge. But I refuse to be ashamed of what I am and what I have accomplished. So no, I will not write them as people. I will not take this story down just because it's not the way you want it. That is all I have to say. Teeta out. Peace.


	2. Prologue

**Prologue **

The arrow found its home with a thud. The leaves rustled as they were rudely disturbed, crackling their protest. She timidly peered from the oak trunk she had hidden behind, then stepped into the open. The sun bathed her as she surrendered to the space of the clearing, where the doe had been drinking from the brook cutting a path across the ground. She stood over the deer's carcass, meeting its empty gaze. She seemed to be mourning for the life she had taken, which, she knew, was abnormal for a successful hunter. When a time had passed, she knelt next to the body and grasped its forelegs, hauling it over her shoulder, the lolling head resting its chin on the hooves, which brushed the pack strapped to her back. The leather twitched for a moment and made a soft cheeping sound.

She turned away and trekked back into the trees, her gait bothered by the extra weight. Stepping over rocks and fallen branches, occasionally lurching precariously when she missed, she cast her eyes about the woods, pinpointing certain details and attributes of the area. When she found a place that held what she was looking for, she slowly lowered her game onto the forest floor with a huff if exertion, then engaged in skinning the deer with a dagger she removed from its sheath clipped to the belt around her waist.

Once the hide was off and the body separated into convenient portions, she returned to the creek and washed the blood from her paws and refilled her canteen, taking a long draught from it before returning to the place where she had left her catch. She cried out in fury when she saw the bright red pelt of a fox. The animal looked up sharply, then dipped its head to clutch a leg and turned tail and fled, scarlet spots flying from the bare muscle. She scrabbled for her bow and arrows, which she had left next to the dead deer, managed to position it to knock an arrow and release it. The sharpened tip bit into the base of a tree as the fox's tail was swallowed by the underbrush.

She stared ahead, struck by the fox's unprecedented arrival, then shook herself and clanked her bow down at a distance where she could reach it quickly if needed. The molly gathered dry brush that she had found at the edge of the trees and dragged it to the spot she had chosen for the cooking fire, glancing around herself in case of anymore unwanted visitors. She lit the pile with a piece of flint and her dagger, then pushed the meat, which she had placed on stones, near the flames. Finding a cushioned place among the leaves, she set to wait. Soon the smell of roasting flesh drifted through the air.

With the greatest of care, the girl shrugged the pack from her shoulders and placed it in her lap. With her paws free, she was able to undo her cloak and wrestle her top-dressing off. The pack squeaked on her knees and began to fidget impatiently, finally succeeding in pushing a downy nose and mouth into the open. The jaws parted and released another annoyed shriek. The molly tore the fabric from her body with haste and lifted her kit into the open. The tiny paws made a reach for her belly and clung tight to her fur the first chance they got, pulling the baby's mouth to her skin and immediately started to suckle.

The mother sighed as she watched her child's face work to stimulate the flow of milk into his mouth. Overtaken by instinct, she lowered her head and licked the child's fuzzy ears. The action pulled him away from his meal and he mewed in protest, and went right back to eating. His expression of irritation reminded her of the face the child's father would make when she had tried to groom his own unruly fur. And then she was crying, cradling her child as he fed, telling him how much she loved him and how much his father loved him. The babe looked up at his mother's tear-stained eyes and stuck out his milky tongue as if to lick her back, and returned to eating.

She decided to take his advice. Commissioning a nearby stick, she pulled the stones from the fire and hungrily tore at the meat. The child, ever curious, managed to nibble a bit of the fat on the edges. His mother laughed when she saw his lips covered in grease. Standing, she kicked dirt over the flames to kill them and put the extra venison into the pockets of her cloak. She was about to put her shirt back on, stopped, and decided that there wasn't really a good reason to do that. So she took the child's blanket from his pack and wrapped him in it as he nodded off, lulled by a stomach fill with milk, stuffed the cloak into the pack instead, and lifted onto her back. Whether it was intentional or accidental, the mother left her shirt at the campsite, heading off into the trees. She might have made a better effort to remember it, had she known the great wolves would find the piece during the night… with her scent and the smell of deer blood still on it.

XXX

The molly was lost. She was not only lost in her direction, her mind seemed to keep forgetting what she was there for and why. The first change had been the trees: the gaps between them grew larger, their boles became taller and thinner, and their branches intertwined with those of their neighbors like a nest of snakes. The closeness of their leaves blocked nearly all glimpses of the sky, and the light that reached the earth was an odd, captivating emerald. She found herself standing and staring at flower rising from the soil or a leaf that was yellow instead of green. Sometimes she was sure she heard voices, children's voices, speaking in a tongue that sounded like pine cones falling and wind brushing stems. And when night fell, the light changed from emerald to sapphire, and the night creatures sang to each other of the hunt and of the moon, and the trees cradled the tiny living things sleeping in their shelter like offspring.

It was all so consuming, so inviting… so horribly raw to the core. Nature was the goddess of this realm, and her ensnaring influence pulled at the fibers of the girls being, and she happily, unwittingly, gave in. She curled into the ground, folding herself over her child, and slept.

XXX

The power of the earth woke her. The air vibrated with the song of the night hunters. She listened for a time, their prowess admirable and intriguing as they sang of the prey they were going to kill. The song grew louder, the moment of the kill was fast approaching, and something stirred inside of her as a pair of yellow eyes appeared from the depths. This was her song. She leapt and ran, the ground world ordering her to protect her presence. The song was beautiful, but in a terrible, horrifying way, as it spoke of her death and the smell of her blood and the feeling of her flesh in their bellies.

The mother dropped to all fours, pausing only to lift her child, blanket and all, with her mouth. The cloak and pack were forgotten. The ground slid beneath her as she fled, her death song giving her strength to run. Her baby screamed in terror. A flood of impulse rushed through her blood. She must, above everything else in the world, above breathing, above thinking, above saving herself, she must save her child. It was the will of nature the goddess. Yellow eyes flashed in the corner of her eye. The sounds of hungry panting filled her ears. One howl soared above the rest, and the kill began.

Fangs tore at her neck. Heavy bodies tried to knock her down with their weight. A few well-aimed nips to her paws made her stumble. Heart pounding, she pumped her legs faster, ducking roots and lunges to her head, until she seemed to burst into a hall of warmth. Her paws met soft bark and her nose smelled sweet sap, and her soul knew that this was a place of small things that felt no fear and suffered no danger. A gentle limb reached down to stroke her cheek. She obediently relaxed her mouth, and her baby slid into the being that promised safety. Happy as she was that she had saved her child, she didn't realize the wolves as they fell upon her and ripped the skin from her bones. She prayed to the gods that her son might know how much his mother and father loved him.


	3. Book One: Chapter One

**Book One**

** Stories **

**Chapter One**

It was a grim sight. The Nutlings had been ushered to a space far away while the Second and Third Strikes took in the carnage. Wolfos scent was everywhere; the giant paw prints that smeared the grass and dirt were unneeded in the case of evidence. Weaving around the throaty smell was the hair-rising reek of blood and the sickening stench of death. Saria had seen such things before, this being her one-hundred and tenth summer. The same could not be said, however, for the horrified First Strike next to her.

Amica's fur was as rigid as river weed. She was supposed to be helping to distract the Nutlings long enough for the mess to be cleaned up, but she had insisted that she could handle whatever nature had dropped on the edge of their village. Saria had known that she was wrong, but she didn't stop Amica, impressed as she was by her friend's eagerness to see what a fresh bone looked like. Floria studied the carcass with empty eyes. She was a Third Strike, meaning she had seen over three hundred summers since her making. Naturally, it would be one of her experience who decided what the scene meant and what should be done about it.

"We had best bury the thing before the smell of its blood brings any scavengers close to the fruit trees. It would be bad if they got their filth in our pears, especially for the Nutlings."

"What is-was-it?" Amica squeaked. She looked as if he expected the creature to stand up and stare at them with its empty sockets.

Floria seemed to ponder this, and shrugged. "It's not a Stalfos, the bones aren't prominent and the fur's the wrong color. It's not a Wolfos, which is obvious by its snout, and besides, Wolfos did this, and I've never known Wolfos to eat their own kind. Perhaps Mido will know what kind of monster it is."

"Are we sure it's even a monster?" Saria pointed out. Floria had turned to delve into the forest. She stopped and looked at the corpse once more before answering.

"It was far bigger than any Kokiri and," Floria's voice gained a serious tone, "it ate meat. Just look at its teeth." And she vanished among the leaves.

Saria had known that. Everyone could see the creature's fangs in her wide open mouth. They were sharp, yes, but they weren't the sharpest she'd ever seen. And it did have claws, but they resembled her own nails, which were built for snagging small prey and scaling trees. Still, the body's claws were longer and looked more like tearing weapons than anything else… but all of the monsters she knew had nails made for stabbing and slicing. Tearing seemed-clumsy-compared to any other hunting method she knew.

Something tickled her neck. She turned to see Robin perched on her shoulder. Robin, who had earned her name for her bright red color, was one of many fairies that lived in the woods. These Deku fairies, or "magic life", as the word meant, were a quiet race, typically keeping to themselves and those they felt particularly safe with. This turned out to be perfectly convenient for the Lord of the Forest, who had long since decided that whenever a Kokiri became a First Strike, the dawn of their tenth summer, they would be assigned a Deku fairy to be their life-long companion. It was a bond strengthened by the fact that with two eyes on the ground and four wings in the air, the subjects of the Forest Lord were happier, and more importantly, safer.

Robin's body was made of magic-or so everyone assumed. She had no mouth or eyes, and so she saw with her aura and spoke with her mind. Naturally, Saria had trouble focusing on anything else when she had something to say in her saturating voice.

"The Stalfos are on the far side of the Big River. I don't think they'll be coming back here, as long as there's no meat scent for them to follow." Saria noticed Amica loosen as the tension her body had been holding drained away.

"Where's Amber?" the First Strike immediately said, asking after her own partner.

"Scouting to make sure no other packs is following the trail. Lavender's doing that, too, but in a different direction," Robin replied, mentioning Floria's fairy for the sake of courtesy, realized the Second Strike wasn't there, and started to say, "Where's-"when she was interrupted by Mido and Floria bursting onto the scene.

As always, a hushed silence fell over the mollies and fairies in the presence of the alpha. Mido was the oldest Kokiri in the forest, having seen his five-hundred and seventh summer that year. By unspoken consent, Mido was the one to be trusted with matters involving the tribe, such as decisions and hunting and gathering parties during the winter. Of course, everyone knew that the Forest Lord was the true king of the trees, and even Mido bowed to his will. However, when Mido did not have to bow, which was often, since few were allowed to see the Forest Lord simply to call (let alone dared) Mido was the king, and he made sure everyone understood that.

Mido's fairy hovered next to the tom's ear. The pair stared down at the mess on the ground, and Mido twitched an ear and his fairy went straight to searching the remains with his tiny body. Mido sniffed the air, looked at its mouth, studied the pattern on its fur, tested its claws, and sniffed its fur repeatedly. With sniff, Mido's fur seemed to rise higher and higher, until Saria could have sworn his clothes were lifting from his body with it. Then he stood up straight and his fairy flew close to him and whispered something in his ear. Mido's fairy never spoke to anyone but Mido. Mido's fairy did not have a name other than Mido's fairy. Mido was the alpha, and he did not deign to consider himself worthy of anyone's individual interest, or anyone close to him.

Floria's fur rose with Mido's and her yellow eyes widened as he began to snarl.

"What is it?" Saria asked, sounding curious rather than alarmed for Amica's sake. Mido threw himself to the ground and started sniffing vehemently, his fairy began searching every nook around the body of the monster. Floria looked at Saria for a long time, as if considering her, then picked a tuft torn hair from the bushes.

"Smell this," was all she said, and gave the fur to Saria. She brought it to her nose and breathed in. With the same breath, she stared back at Floria and whispered, "Cubs?" Floria nodded gravely.

"I was hoping I had made a mistake, but Mido smells it, too. This female was making milk when she died."

There was a silence.

"Cubs?" Amica squeaked, though with fear or surprise Saria couldn't tell. "You, mean, like offspring? This monster had… little monsters?" Without waiting for an answer, she plunged into a frantic search. Saria's mind was working too hard for her to say anything. Monster cubs? The idea was both frightening and intriguing. What did one do with a monster's newborn? Were they dangerous? Should they want to find it? If they did, what then? Amica yanked on Saria's paw forcefully; when they met gazes the First Strike's was one of anticipation.

"Help us, Saria! Look! We have to find that cub!"

"What for?" Her question was met with several indignant stares, if the fairies were capable of staring.

"What if it's sick? Or hurt? We have to find it. It's only new!" Amica's voice was on the edge of anger. Mido's ears twitched and he seemed to show the tips of his teeth from underneath his lips for a heartbeat, but the moment was fast gone, and so she couldn't be sure.

"Then what, though? We don't know what kind of monster it is, so how would we feed it?" She reflexively looked at Mido for an explanation, but it was Robin who answered.

"We ask the Deku Tree."

At the mention of the Forest Lord, a thought struck Saria that she later considered a bit belated on her part.

"Does the Deku Tree know about this? You did tell him, didn't you?" she asked, turning to Floria. The Second Strike made a sound of exasperation, as if she couldn't believe anyone could even ponder such a stupid question.

"Of course he knows. He knows everything. He was the one who told us to scout the place." Saria knew that. The Deku Tree had heard from the sparrows resting on his branches about the crows and how they were screaming about a "wonderful feast." Sensing something wasn't as it should be, he had suggested that any Kokiri willing should see what the carrion birds were so ecstatic for, for something extraordinary must have perished. Floria had immediately struck out for the call of the crows, and Floria had followed if only for curiosity's sake, although secretly, she thought someone must be there to properly witness the beast's parting from the world and appraise it for the life that it had led. Amica had simply been unwilling to be left out; she had only become a First Strike and earned her fairy partner a mere three days before, and still drove primarily on her Nutling's intuition.

In truth, Saria was just as concerned for the cub as Amica was, but she had a common sense that was more developed than her friend. She wanted to be absolutely sure that interfering was the best choice for them all, rather than letting nature settle the problem. She didn't want to make the bad worse by trying to make it better.

"But what about the cubs?" Saria pointed out. "Does he know about them? It seems to be something he would want to know about it." Mido was frowning. He did not like to be ignored in his authority. When the opportunity arose, he snatched it the way a hawk grabs a mouse from the ground: roughly and vainly, making sure that all knew this moment was about him.

"Saria is right. This is too important for the Deku Tree not to know. Why don't you go tell him, since you're the one who thought of it?" Saria was nonplussed by the sudden attention, and she hesitated for a moment before Robin nudged her, and they both dove into the undergrowth. She could hear Amica talking animatedly to Amber as they searched for the missing cub.

"Do you think it has fur? Floria told me that baby bunnies don't have any when their new, they only have pink skin. Do you think it's cold? I bet it misses its pack. Poor creature, I hope it isn't crying…"

** XXX**

The Lord of the Forest always knew when someone was approaching his clearing. His subjects sent whispers to him on the wind: the bumps that shivered down a root as it was stepped on, the brush of fur against bark that said which direction the creature was heading, the taste of the air that determined how quickly one was breathing. Saria had not meant to run so fast. Robin was riding in between her ears underneath her hat. The more she thought about the cub, the more worried she felt, and the faster she ran. She had never been one to do nothing when a wounded fawn came stumbling down her path, but she had never been one for impulsive action either. Such a happening as this seemed to warrant hasty one-thought decisions, and the outcome was unfathomable. Whether the conclusion was good or ill, they probably wouldn't know until they were so entangled, they wouldn't be able to turn back.

The Great Deku Tree stood tall and berth. His thick branches, stringy with vines, curled and bent around the limbs of those of other trees or those of his own. This provided a satisfactory circle of land before him for his children to seek his council. Saria used it to catch her breath. It was not typically acceptable to simply appear in front of the Forest Lord, and even after she had steadied her breathing, she did not speak. Birds sang in the silence and the Deku Tree shifted his twigs in the wind. And then he spoke.

"The birds sing of new chicks. I think eggs will be hatching soon." His voice was medley of bark against bark, the rustle of leaves, and most of all, the rumble his trunk between the air and the ground. Saria could feel it shake her small body like an acorn loose in the air. She would have loved to close her eyes and concentrate on the sensation, but she forced herself to remember what she had come for.

"Deku Tree, Mido sent me to tell you that we found something important when we were scouting."

"Did you? Do you need reinforcements? Is someone injured?" Saria could have sworn the Deku Tree's branches pulled in as his voice filled with concern.

"No, no one's hurt. But… but Mido said he smelled milk on the dead thing's fur. It had cubs."

"Oh, is that the terrible news?" Saria nearly gawked with surprise at his aloofness.

"Great Deku Tree?"

"Ah. My apologies. I suppose I should explain myself."

The sound of wood being moved into a different position split the air and something that resembled a pouch made of conjoined vines appeared in the gap of the canopy. Higher vines slid away and lower ones took their place as the litter made its way to the ground, where it stopped a mere few feet from Saria. Robin hovered over the pouch, roused by the activity. Like a colony of snakes departing for less crowded sun-rocks, the tendrils peeled away to show an egg-shaped hollow within, and in that hollow was the oddest kitten Saria or Robin had ever seen. Its fur was white as snow, with faint gray stripes running through it like veins. Its head was broad, as were its shoulders, limbs, and paws. Its ears were the anomaly: they sprouted from its head like flower stems, straight and tall, until they ended in sharp points. They twitched every few seconds, as if the plant surface the creature slept on tickled its soft skin. Mesmerized, Saria leaned in for a closer look, jumping back as the cub shifted drowsily. Its tiny jaws opened wide in a yawn, revealing miniscule, but nevertheless needled, teeth. The tips of its claws popped out as it settled into its new position. They were small copies of the nails of the dead beast in the woods, albeit noticeably sharper with newness.

Saria had to work to find her voice.

"You… you have the monster's cub?!" It came out a bit more challengingly than she had meant it to. If the Deku Tree noticed, he did not say it.

"Had it? I still do. Did you think me to drop the small one?"

"No, it's just… it's a monster!"

"And you are a Kokiri and I am a tree. What else is there to know?"

"Yes, but Deku Tree… what are you going to do with it?" The Deku Tree was silent for a moment.

"He is a cub, Saria. He needs milk and protection to grow and become strong."

"We don't have those things," Saria said, still staring at the creature. Fright for the tiny life welled up inside her, but she tried to ignore it. This was a monster. Monsters were dangerous. They killed Kokiri who wandered too close and ate copious amounts of prey. They were predators, enemies. And then the cub twitched his nose and squeaked experimentally. When he received no response, his squeaks became whines, and his whines became cries of forlornness.

Robin made a sound of pity and seemed to draw closer, perhaps to comfort the beast. A clumsy paw nearly clubbed her. She had to swerve awkwardly in the air to avoid the blow. Saria was trying not to panic. She looked up to the Deku Tree's trunk (the closest thing he had to a face) and waited for some sort of instruction.

"The poor little one has not eaten since he was given to me." As he spoke he called out to his trees and they answered. In a mere few blinks, he had a number of figs and cherries in a proffered leaf before them. Saria doubted this would help anything, but she didn't dare say so. Robin, on the other paw, did not share her inhibitions.

"Monster cubs need milk because their teeth are too small to chew anything." She said it as if explaining something to someone who wasn't very bright. Saria's insides twisted with embarrassment, and she braced herself for a harsh reprimand. The reply he delivered left her shocked dumb for a good ten seconds.

"Excellent perception, winged one, however, what a beast may or may not eat depends on the hardness of his stomach, not the size of his teeth. I estimate this cub to be about one summer into his life, and will be able to take the fruit, provided you beat it into a soup first since, as you mentioned, his teeth are not made for chewing."

It was a messy business, but Saria squished each taut sac, being careful to remove the pit, and encouraged the sticky mash into the wailing mouth. She was afraid the cub would bite her once her fingers touched his tongue, but he was too busy crying in self-pity to notice. He made several faces as he maneuvered the squashed cherry around his mouth. He squeaked angrily when it wasn't sweet milk and seemed to consider spitting it out, but found he couldn't manage the complex action required of such a feat, and resigned to swallowing the mess. After the first bite, he appeared to decide that fruit wasn't so terrible, and actually licked the excess juice from Saria's paws once all of the food was gone. He sat there quietly for a time, as if enjoying his full belly, then made a face and squeaked angrily at her. Saria stared back in astonishment at the mood swing, and the pause made the cub shriek with fury.

"All right, what do you want?" she whined. The cub answered by throwing his paws at her. The movement sent him sprawling out of his hammock and into Saria's paws. It looked at her, grimaced as if it didn't like what it saw, and then smiled as if it had just as quickly changed its mind. Saria opened her mouth to ask after its behavior, but coughed as the taste of the air hit her senses.

"It's soiled itself!" Robin exclaimed, earning a laugh from both the cub and the Deku Tree.

If Saria had thought that feeding the cub mashed fruit was sloppy, it was nothing compared to cleaning the creature of its own creation. The Deku Tree helped her, telling her how to remove the ruined wrapping and make a new one from fresh leaves he provided. The cub laughed at Saria's disgusted expression as he played with the vines he lay upon. The giggles quickly turned into yawns, and as soon as he was free from her paws, he curled up and went straight to sleep. Saria watched the beast as it sighed and shifted drowsily, resisting the urge to stroke its downy fluff. The Deku Tree could see the longing in her eyes. He tipped the hammock; gently sliding the cub into Saria's waiting paws. The creature nuzzled against her chest, yawning so widely his soft new tongue popped out. Without really knowing why, she started to rock him. The cub snuggled deeper into her hold and snuffled. It was, of course, at that moment that Mido decided to appear.

Saria gasped and looked up at the sound of something coming out of the undergrowth. The two Kokiri stared at each other. Amica and Floria quickly followed him; Floria gawked at the sight and Amica squealed with curiosity and scampered in for a closer look, her fairy right next to her face. Mido's look of surprise morphed into one of anger, then to disgust, and then managed to control himself before anything else showed.

"You had the cub this whole time," he growled. Saria knew he was trying to make it sound like an unbiased statement, but the accusation was vibrating in his voice. She was about to protest when the Deku Tree defended her.

"On the contrary, the little one is in my care. Saria simply wanted to hold him." Mido's gaze jumped to the massive trunk and his face twisted halfway into a snarl before he caught himself.

"What do you wish for me to do with the… little one?" he asked, gnawing on the last two words like they were tough meat. "I know of several spaces in the bushes I could put him. He would be safe from other predators there, until his pack finds him." Saria had the sudden urge to claw Mido's face as when he said "other predators." She held the warm ball of fur to her closer to restrain herself.

"No."

It was not an exclamation, but he made it quite clear it was the ultimatum. The ground rumbled with the force of the word, and the trees clattered in protest and anxiety at the sound. A pair of squirrels chattered in panic. Amica threw herself to the loam and seemed to play dead. Floria shrank into herself. Mido's fur bristled and his eyes widened, but he stood his ground. Saria ironically pushed herself against the shaking bark. The cub babbled in his sleep, but didn't wake.

"The keeper of this child came to me, bloodied and broken, and with her last breath, she gave her offspring to me. The Wolfos who killed her dragged her body away and ate her, but her child still lives. This beast is not Kokiri," he rumbled, sending a trailing vine to caress the cub's tiny face, "but any creature who asks me to care for those who cannot care for themselves, be it them or their loved ones, be them predator or prey. I am the king of these woods, and I mark this child as one of my own. He is under my protection, and any who wish to harm him shall face me."

The Great Deku Tree was not one for threats. Now Saria knew why. Mido's expression melted from vexed to terrified. He crumpled where he stood, curling into a ball and squeezing his eyes shut, as if he was braving a storm in the open. Saria nor Amica had ever seen Mido bow to anyone or anything in pure defeat the way he was now. Saria felt oddly pleased by the sight, although she couldn't say why, exactly. Finally, the quaking stopped. Mido opened his eyes slowly and stood just as fast, trying to put on a face of unopposed authority with his puffed up fur and tail twice its normal size. She fought back the laughter the ridiculous sight elicited. Amica didn't. She giggled loud enough for all to hear. Mido didn't even bother to glare at her; he knew his dignity was completely gone. Floria looked almost apologetic. Then the realization of what the Deku Tree had said came to her.

"Deku Tree…" she paused for a moment, wondering if she would be silenced. She wasn't. She continued. "We don't know what it-he-is. How do we feed him? Where will we keep him? What if-"What if he eats us all? "What if his own kind comes looking for him?"

The Tree was silent. Then,

"Do you believe this child has a right to live, even though he is not like you?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. Every living thing deserves a chance."

"And what if he turns into something you do not enjoy? Will you still believe that?" She hated it when the Deku Tree could tell what she was thinking when she didn't want anyone else to know. Obviously, he wanted to know, and so her opinion didn't matter.

"What he is isn't anyone's fault, especially not his. Whether or not he'll be a… monster… one day isn't something I should blame him for."

"So, if I asked it of you, would you care for him in the stead of his keeper?" This question Saria was not ready for. She looked at the cub, sleeping against her body, and tried to imagine him slicing through flesh to devour the warm meat underneath. It was not an impossible thing for her to see in the future, unfortunately, but it was impossible to see now. And now was what mattered, for now would determine the future. Floria was silently shaking her head at her from across the clearing. Amica was staring pleadingly at her, all the while playing with the cub's fresh hair. Mido was challenging her. His eyes screamed a warning, a promise. Now determines the future, and now determines whether or not I deem you unfavorable. A flame of rebellion appeared in her chest, and she heard herself say, "I will guard it with my life."

Mido's eyes narrowed and he nodded slightly, but not in agreement. You have made your choice, his body said, and in this, I am your enemy. Saria found herself oddly unintimidated, perhaps because, Floria let out a cry of disbelief.

"Saria, it's a monster cub!"

"And only a cub," she shot back, and as she said it her confidence grew. "We can't leave him to die, that's murder! You wouldn't leave a rabbit with a broken foot to fend for himself, would you?" That decided it for all of them. The Kokiri races were not common meat eaters, but when they did take lives, they did so with the upmost reverence. A Kokiri hunter would never kill doe with a fawn, let alone the fawn itself. They refused to stalk any prey that couldn't defend itself or escape, for such a kill would not be game, but an unfair victory of a slanted competition. At that moment, despite her vow to the Deku Tree before, she knew this was what she was going to do, no matter the cost.

"I'll help," Amica piped up.

"And me," Amber stated almost defiantly.

"Right after me, of course," Robin interjected, snuggling closer to Saria's neck.

"Thank you, my children," the Deku Tree rumbled. "But please remember, being under the care of my children makes him a child of mine himself. My counsel is at your disposal, for you and your little one." Saria doubted the cub would ever seek anyone's counsel, besides, perhaps, that of his own stomach. Beasts such as these weren't known for their intelligence, except perhaps when hunting. She pushed the thought away. The Deku Tree knew what he meant, even if she didn't.

They were given a sparse few things that the Deku Tree said had been given to him with the cub by his caretaker. There was a pack sort of carrier that Floria had found with the caretaker's body; she had brought it from the site for its surprisingly good condition despite the circumstances, and because of its inevitable usefulness. Saria kept the cub's things in it on her back (it was very big for her and drug on the ground, but she made the most of it) except for the hide. The blue hide made of soft, thin leather. She covered the cub's tiny body with it, and he purred at the warmth and familiar scent. Amica felt the feathery down poking out from underneath it and pondered something that had just occurred to her.

"He needs a name," she declared, looking up at Saria. "We can't always be calling it 'it'."

"Stal." Mido's voice made both the females turn. His face twitched, but he showed no feeling. "Stal" was a word in the Kokiri's tongue; its meaning, roughly, was "monster that looks like Kokiri." Much like the "Deku" meant "magic life of the forest", the word "fos" meant "predator of Kokiri", and was added to certain names of titles. Thus, the word "Wolfos" meant "great monster wolf" and "Stalfos" meant "monster that is like Kokiri but eats Kokiri." It was also one of the most terrifying words to hear for anyone to utter. Stalfos were smart, strong predators, and although hiding or climbing a tree typically was enough to escape, sometimes the creature was just hungry enough that they were willing to take extremes for their prey.

The very thought of naming the cub such a delicate phrase sent shivers of disgust down Saria's spine. So strong that she couldn't bring herself to say anything to Mido. She simply looked away. Amica followed suit. And they continued as if he had said nothing at all.

"How about Hare? His ears are long, so it's fitting."

"No. It seems mean somehow."

"Snow."

"Maybe. That's a nice one, Robin."

"Fluffy."

"NO. Definitely not." Saria rocked the cub as he slept and thought; mostly to think of something before Amber did and suggested something even worse. "His name should mean something special. It should sound special. That way, everyone will know that he is special, but in a good way."

"If I may," the Deku Tree said, rustling the leaves on his branches as he spoke. "I believe I may have a worthy candidate." Saria felt a surge of relief at the prospect of a respectable idea, and not another…Fluffy. She shivered at the very possibility.

"I'm sure whatever you have in mind is exactly what we're looking for, Deku Tree." The Tree trembled by the tips of his vines, as if excited for some great occasion.

"Well, if you think it acceptable, I would say…"


End file.
